


As You Wish

by AlyceSaysNo



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien is the perfect Buttercup and no one can convince me otherwise, Buttercup!Adrien, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Kwami Swap, Love square but stupider, Painfully shy kids, PrincessBride!AU, Will there be Kwamis who knows, god so much fluff, kind of, no editing we die like real women
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 17:17:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16748266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyceSaysNo/pseuds/AlyceSaysNo
Summary: Adrien Agreste falls in love with the farm girl. Marinette, the farm girl, leaves to seek her fortune across the seas. Her ship is attacked by the Dread Pirate Chat Noir, who never leaves captives alive.Sound familiar? That's because this is the Princess Bride AU that no one asked for.





	As You Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the Princess Bride AU no one asked for. I happened to see the most adorable picture on Tumblr, courtesy of [shelbyecandraw](https://shelbyecandraw.tumblr.com/post/177677311878/me-my-roommates-two-friends-watched-the), and this idea has been just nagging at me ever since. Because really, Adrien is the perfect Buttercup. I should be taking notes on the Arthus reaction and serum sickness right now, but instead I'm writing fanfiction for the first time in like… 12 years.  
> A couple of warnings: Marinette will be taking the part of Westley and Adrien the part of Buttercup. I… haven't quite figured out the rest yet, so stay tuned? I have not read the book (it's on my list though), so this will largely follow the movie.

As far as upbringings go, Adrien Agreste had little to complain about. Gabriel, a successful clothier to the upper class of Paris and even the majesties themselves, had ensured his son every opportunity to move beyond his station. He could play piano, fence with reasonable skill, and speak three languages. He had never known hunger, even in lean times, and had lived a quiet life on a small farm away from the bustling and dangerous streets of Paris. 

But an emptiness gnawed at him. Maybe it was the lack of affection from his father or the isolated nature of his upbringing. Maybe it was never knowing his mother. Instead of finding solace in his social lessons, Adrien's favorite pastimes were riding and ordering around the farm girl, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. 

He hadn't meant for it to become a habit. At first, it had been an excuse to talk to her. They were the same age and Adrien was desperate for a friend. But she was so painfully shy that any attempt at conversation usually ended with an unfortunate, clumsy accident on her part or her outright flight after a panicked outburst.

So the first order was a lighthearted (he thought) stab at even a normal conversation. 

"Farm Girl," he said one day after his ride, "Polish my saddle."

Marinette jumped, barely keeping her grip on her pitchfork. Wide-eyed, she nodded. 

"I want to see my face shining in it by morning," he added, mostly as a joke. 

Even though her cheeks were flushed and her chin trembled, she looked him square in the eye and said, "A-as you wish." 

He hadn't really thought about what he would do if she actually said something intelligible to him. In fact, her words and her level, blue-eyed stare shocked him so much that he was the one who ran away from the conversation. 

Even though the plan backfired on him, he still considered it a success. After all, she had spoke an actual sentence with only the tiniest of stutters. 

So he tried again, this time when she could see him coming. While she was preparing to take the cows out to pasture, he brought two buckets. 

"Farm Girl," he said, excited that she didn't jump this time, "Fill these buckets with water." 

She stared at him, those blue eyes piercing him in a way he hadn't quite expected. His heart pounded painfully in his chest. Then she looked down at the buckets he had set down before her.

"Please," he added weakly. 

She grabbed the rough rope handles and peered up at him. "As you wish." 

Again, any follow-up conversation died in his throat. She slung the buckets over her shoulder and led the cows away. Adrien watched her walk away, noticing for the first time the beautiful shine of her black hair in the dawn light. 

For months, this continued. He tried changing the time of day, the situation, and the request, but nothing seemed to work. Starting a conversation without an order set her back into a panicked frenzy, while her now expected and confident "As you wish," completely short circuited his brain. 

They were at an impasse, so he kept giving orders. She never said anything besides that short, heart-stopping phrase and he never called her anything but Farm Girl. 

He tried to bring up his failure at friendship to Nathalie, his caretaker and tutor, since waiting on his father for advice would be like waiting on the sun to rise in the west. 

"Nathalie, do you have friends?" he asked. 

She glanced at him sidelong, "At one time. My focus is your upbringing, Mr. Agreste." 

He waved the assurance away, "Yes, thank you, but how did you make them? Or how do you know if you have them?"

Nathalie closed the book in front of her. "Are you meeting someone on those supposedly secret rides of yours?"

He flushed. "No, no. I'm not riding anywhere. Just talking about people here, around the farm." 

She didn't look like she believed him, but she let the subject of his riding drop. "Usually, you make friends by having long discussions with them." 

Well that wasn't a good sign, he thought. "What about people who don't talk very much? Or people you can't talk to?"

Nathalie's lips twitched and he swore she was trying not to smile. "What do you mean you can't talk to?" 

He didn't think his face could get any warmer, but it did. "I mean—you know, they look at you, and you can't think of anything to say even though you want to talk to them." 

Her eyes narrowed. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the young farmhand we have here, would it?" 

"No!" he blurted, "No, someone else."

Nathalie thought for a moment. He waited, clenching his fists beneath the table. Finally, she said, "Usually not being able to talk to someone even if you want to means you have a crush."

He was going to set the house on fire if his cheeks got any hotter. But before he could say anything, Nathalie added, "But I must caution you, Mr. Agreste, that your father expects you to marry above your station. If your feelings are not for something who would fit that requirement, it is best if you let it go and focus on your studies." 

The iciness of her words tempered the heat in his face. Adrien felt his stomach sink, as if something terribly wrong had been brought to light. 

"I know," he said, which was true. He had always understood his father's expectations. He didn't get them, but he understood. "It's nothing like that," he assured her. 

"Very good," Nathalie said, reopening her book. "Are you ready to move on?"

As it turned out, he wasn't ready to move on. At least, move on past the idea that he could have a crush on Marinette. The talk with Nathalie had only confused him even more. He had just wanted a friend. Wasn't falling in love with someone a step too far? It seemed like learning how to run before knowing how to walk. 

But the more he thought about it the more he couldn't get the idea out his head. He started noticing the silliest things, like the way her pigtails were slightly lopsided on the days she got up late or how her brow furrowed while she concentrated on the mending. The days her father came to deliver bread she would smile brilliantly and launch into how much she was learning and how much stronger she had gotten. He would stay out of sight, listening to her speak without hindrance, and his heart would ache fiercely. 

Soon his thoughts turned from how he absolutely couldn't be in love with her to how he was most definitely, completely, and hopelessly in love with her. But if they never spoke more than two sentences to each other at a time, how would he tell her? How would he know if she felt the same?

These thoughts preoccupied his daily rides. He didn't want to stop giving orders, since he would lose his only solid chance of talking to her, but he didn't want to order her to do anything that would make her day harder. Or worse, give her an order that made her hate him.

He drew his horse to a halt at that sudden, horrifying thought. What if she hated him? He didn't think so, not when she looked at him  _ that  _ way. Adrien didn't know exactly what her level stare meant, but he was almost sure it wasn't hate. 

But how would he know if they had never had a proper conversation? 

Mind made up, Adrien turned his horse around and kicked her into a gallop back to the farm. If these thoughts were going to torture him, he might as well let someone else in on it.

And, if he was very lucky, he might discover something entirely new and wonderful. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. My update schedule will be… sketchy at best because I work and go to school. But I'm sure you'll get more chapters as I need breaks from immunology and (shaky breath) organic chemistry.


End file.
